


Set On You

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: rarepair_shorts, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-21
Updated: 2008-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was there yesterday, all flattering words and expensive roses, and Ginny doesn't doubt that he'll show up again today, probably in the early evening when most of the other staff have already left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Set On You

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written as a gift for humbuggirl in the 2008 Spring Wishlists Event at rarepair_shorts.  
> Pairing: Scorpius Malfoy/Ginny Weasley (mention of past Harry/Ginny)   
> Warnings: AU-ish. Crossgen (Scorpius is 21).   
> Disclaimer: The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

He was there yesterday, all flattering words and expensive roses, and Ginny doesn’t doubt that he’ll show up again today, probably in the early evening when most of the other staff have already left.   
  
This whole thing might be amusing, were it not entirely inappropriate.   
  
He’s barely twenty-one, the same age as her youngest son, while she’s—well, a lady doesn’t like to think about those things, not even a lady who used to be a tomboy once, but suffice it to say that she’s significantly older than he is.   
  
This doesn’t seem to dissuade him, however, nor is he put off by the ardent disdain their respective families have always harboured for one another.   
  
Generations of Malfoys have despised generations of Weasleys, and as a rule, Malfoys and Potters don’t tend to fare that much better.   
  
For half a decade now, Ginny has been a Potter in name only, though this isn’t something she regrets. Her marriage to Harry had been dead for years. Since their divorce she feels like she can finally breathe again.   
  
She moved to London and took a job at _The Daily Prophet_ . The paper is no longer the awful tabloid it once was, and the editor in chief loves her Quidditch articles. Ginny hasn’t played the sport in ages, but she does keep up with the latest developments and rising stars.   
  
Six months ago she bumped into Scorpius Malfoy in the office kitchenette. He was about the last person she’d have expected to choose a career in journalism, but then the boy had surprised her before.   
  
He's the first Malfoy to have ever been sorted into Gryffindor—an event so shocking that no one as much as blinked when the Sorting Hat was placed on Albus Potter’s head and promptly shouted, “Slytherin!”   
  
Gryffindor makes perfect sense to her now, however. The boy is determined to the point of foolishness.   
  
A knock at the door interrupts her musings.   
  
“Yes? It’s open.”   
  
A familiar blond head pokes through the doorway. He’s earlier than expected.   
  
“Scorpius,” she says simply.   
  
“I wanted to—” He hesitates.   
  
“Yes?”   
  
“I’ve received an invitation to that event tomorrow, and I’m allowed to bring a guest.”   
  
She blinks. There’s no need to ask to which event he’s referring. It’s been the talk of the town for weeks.   
  
A selected group of VIPs—and no one else, not even members of the press—will be given a tour of the new Quidditch Arena. The place is twice the size of Wembley Stadium, or so the rumours go. Even its precise location still remains a well-kept secret.   
  
“I was wondering if you might be interested in accompanying me.”   
  
Scorpius watches her expectantly and Ginny takes a deep breath.   
  
She can’t deny that he’s a handsome young man, as well as intelligent and notably more polite than his father. Though in her experience, the latter can probably be said for the average Mountain Troll as well, so perhaps it’s not something she should take into consideration.   
  
“Look, Malf— _Scorpius_ ,” she finally replies, “I‘d be lying if I said that the event doesn’t interest me, but—“   
  
His eyes widen and he gives the impression that he might start pouting any second. She finds it almost endearing.   
  
“But?” he says, gesturing her to please continue.   
  
“You’re the same age as Albus. Flattering though all this attention is—“   
  
“I don’t care how old you are,” he says simply. “You don’t look a day over twenty-five, for starters.”   
  
Ginny smiles despite herself. The boy seems to know every trick in the book, and somehow, all his words and actions seem natural, to the point where she is slowly becoming if not interested— _not quite yet_ —then certainly intrigued.   
  
Yet she keeps coming up with reasons why such a relationship would never work. Sometimes she wonders whom she’s trying to convince the most, Scorpius or herself?   
  
Twenty-one may be young, technically, but it’s still old enough. It isn’t as though he’s a child.   
  
“Your father definitely wouldn’t approve,” she says. Even to her own ears, it sounds feeble, like a last resort.   
  
Scorpius shrugs. “I’m used to that.”   
  
“You are?”   
  
“You know,” he offers, sounding more enthusiastic than desperate, “we could go as just friends too. I’m not—I mean to say, I’d just like to get to know you better.”   
  
He gives her a shy smile that’s so unlike any Malfoy she has ever met. It reminds her of her own schooldays when boys used to approach her, boys who might have been right for her, but she never noticed any of hem—not really—because she was star struck and fixated on Harry Potter.   
  
It occurs to her that her younger self probably wouldn’t have cared about age, and neither should she let it bother her now. Age is just another one of those technicalities that hold you back and tie you down.   
  
“All right then,” she finally says.   
  
Scorpius’ smile widens. “Brilliant. I’ll pick you up at—“ He coughs nervously. “Unless, of course, you’d rather they didn’t see us together. The people here at the office, I mean.”   
  
She shakes her head. “No. You can pick me up. That’s fine.”   
  
He blinks, clearly stunned at her sudden change of heart.   
  
“There’s nothing wrong with having a friend at work,” she tells him, “and besides, we’re both free agents and old enough to do what we like, aren’t we?”   
  
He nods slowly and seems hesitant again, as though he’s waiting for the inevitable 'but'.   
  
No such thing surfaces.   
  
“Well, all right,” he says. “See you tomorrow. Half past eleven-ish?”   
  
“Sounds good.”   
  
He gives her a parting nod and quickly exits the room, as though he wants to get out of there before she changes her mind.   
  
Ginny rises from her chair and walks over to the window. Her gaze drifts towards a large billboard.   
  
It appears to be some kind of advertisement. For what, she cannot tell. She has never understood that odd Muggle concept of Sales and Marketing. Magic seems to render its purpose obsolete anyhow.   
  
Still, the text underneath the palm trees makes her smile.   
  
_A ray of sunshine within your grasp._   
  
Even in all their tacky, fluorescent glory, the words are oddly appropriate.


End file.
